Paternal Affection
by Dotti3
Summary: Arima's and Haise's father/son relationship takes a dark turn.
1. Chapter 1: Awake Again

**Paternal Affection**

Arima and Haise's father/son relationship takes a dark turn.

 **Author's Note:** I apologize in advance, but this is a departure from what I usually write. It made me quite uncomfortable to write, but I wanted to expand my scope as a writer. This first chapter is pretty light, but it will be a dark doozy of a fic (not darker than the actual canon though). If you would like for me to warn you about upcoming content, please pm me or you can ask in a review (the latter option doesn't require an account and I can answer you in the beginning of the next chapter). I will also be posting this (soonish) on my ao3 account, TheLovers, if you'd rather wait to see it tagged properly. For now, there is only one brief mention of death. Also, the relationship here is strictly familial, so there will be no sexual content in the entirety of this fic (I can only expand my scope so much, ya know?).

But be warned, YanderePapa!Arima is on his way. Poor Haise/Kaneki. Please forgive me.

* * *

Arima Kishou had trained countless other investigators before meeting his last apprentice. He had thought he knew what he was doing, but perhaps that had been his first mistake. Haise had never been and never would be anything like Take or Koori. And not because he wasn't fully human either.

Perhaps it was because the prison chief had compared the boy to a baby. Perhaps it was because of how young and vulnerable he had looked. Whatever the reason, Arima had begun to see the young man as a child. More specifically, his child.

So like any good parent, he gave his child guidance as he grew. Even during setbacks, he always gave assurances and encouragement. When he couldn't give him company, he gave the lonely boy books to pacify him during his confinement. He gave his child everything he could give. Even the chance to choose their own name.

With Arima's support, 240 became Haise.

Upon writing down his new name, Haise had shown him such a pure smile, an expression that Arima hadn't deserved in the slightest. But even if he hadn't deserved it, he couldn't stop his eyes from staring or his heart from speeding up.

And thus, while he had captured his interests as Kaneki Ken, he captured his heart as Sasaki Haise.

* * *

"You're not eating," Arima observed.

Haise gave a nervous smile, "I'm sorry. It's just that I'm not hun-"

He abruptly cut his lie short as a weak whine escaped from his stomach that clearly proved contrary to the words he was speaking. Arima raised his eyebrows as if to say, 'Is that so?' Haise's nervous smile evolved into nervous laughter.

"Haise." The laughter was quelled by the call of his name. "You need to eat."

No matter his feelings on the matter, Haise dutifully accepted the mug of 'meal' Arima slid his way.

'He really is like a child,' Arima surmised as Haise put the mug down with a grimace. He had gotten a little 'food' on his chin somehow and Arima reached over to remedy this immediately. 'Such a child,' he found himself thinking again, as Haise squirmed away from the napkin he was chasing him with.

* * *

Before either of them really knew it, those relatively peaceful days of Haise's rehabilitation were over. Haise moved from his prison cell into Arima's guest room which wasn't too aesthetically different. But just by being there, Haise managed to breath life into the bland room.

Of course, Arima had helped too. He'd taken him shopping for clothes and other things he might need. Which was mostly books, because according to Haise, that was all he really needed. Unfortunately for Haise, he didn't have much time to read anymore with his many new obligations.

When he wasn't training Haise to fight, he was training him to file reports and make copies. He began shadowing Arima in the office, observing his interactions and having some mild ones of his own. He was a fast learner, so pretty soon he went from making Marude coffee to making his first kill on the field.

Like with all of Haise's other firsts, Arima was there to supervise.

As gentle as he was, it was only natural that the boy cried after his first kill. Or at the very least, it was the first kill he remembered. Arima had given him a blank slate to build on and this was the first stain of many more to come. The older man couldn't help but to think it was a shame for something so pure to be sullied.

Haise's eyes had the same shaken quality he'd get from his nightmares as he gazed upon his bloodied hands. And perhaps it was a conditioned response as he'd gotten so used to comforting the boy after his nightly episodes, but he reached out to comfort him without thinking. Gently, he rubbed his student's trembling back. When Haise's silent tears escalated into choking sobs, he tussled his hair and drew him in to lean on his shoulder.

Distraught as he was, Haise latched on and buried himself into Arima's embrace. His bloodied hands smeared onto the dove's pristine white coat, marking it the same red. And Arima could only find the poetry in it. It was only fitting really. Any blood staining Haise, should stain him as well. After all, he was responsible for his rose, was he not?

Not just his beauty or his fragrance, but he'd have to be responsible for the blood his thorns caused too.

He found himself thankful that it was only the two of them there when Haise lost his newfound innocence. There would be no one to judge the boy for his tears and no one to judge the reaper for coddling him. The only witness was a corpse who watched on with dead eyes and a silenced voice that could never tell a soul.

"There's no need for that." Arima silenced him when he began to hiccup and sniffle out apologies, because it somehow pained him to listen to his ward's pitiful words. Instead, he patted his back and assured him. "You did well, Haise. I'm proud of you."

And he was. He was proud to see his student following his footsteps, even if it left him a little uneasy as well. Unknowing of his mentor's own inner turmoil, Haise began to quiet, seemingly pacified by Arima's words.

It was strange to the man many thought emotionless. He always struggled on what to say, on how to relate to others. His mere presence seemed to unnerve others. And yet, what he said and what he did always seemed to be enough for Haise. It always seemed to be what he needed to hear. Interacting with this not-quite-human being made him feel oddly human.

After Haise had sobbed his last, Arima found himself reluctant to part from him. But night would approach soon enough and they needed to return. "Let's go home," he suggested.

Oddly, Haise seemed taken aback by his words and for a moment, Arima could swear that he was about to cry again. Whatever it was, it quickly was replaced by a bright smile and a happy hum of agreement.

Together, they went home to their overflowing bookshelves.

* * *

Many people needed Arima Kishou. But no one had ever needed him in the way Haise did. Haise, who was completely dependent on his mentor, both emotionally and physically, who needed Arima's constant and complete attention. He sought Arima for comfort and guidance. Whereas others found him cold and unapproachable, Haise saw him as his sole source of approval and affection. No one else had ever sought the Reaper for comfort before, until Haise had come to him in the middle of the night crying after a particularly nasty nightmare. As he held his weepy and sleepy apprentice that night, he relished in the other's vulnerability.

 _He had never felt so close to anyone before._

That wasn't such a surprising outcome considering he was all the boy had. But then, perhaps, it shouldn't be too surprising that the lonely death god came to depend on the affection-starved experiment. It was Haise who would happily converse with him about books. Haise, who would completely lower his guard and speak honestly about his fears. Haise, who gave him a purpose beyond killing.

But just as obligation had initially led him to Haise, it had also pried his blossoming student away from him.

Haise had been given his own batch of needy students to raise and so he left Arima's house for one of his own. Too quickly, the guest room lost its vibrancy, growing cold and gray again. And Arima could feel that cold and gray seeping into other aspects of his life.

He still saw Haise, but it was mostly from afar as they both bustled around the CCG. Those few glimpses granted him short bursts of warmth, but they faded all too soon. As proud of Haise as he was for scaring and slaughtering ghouls just like his Papa, he was lonely too.

Somewhere along the way, he'd gotten too close to the boy. He'd find himself sleepless most nights as he worried about whether Haise was being plagued by more nightmares. Who, other than himself, would wake and comfort the troubled youth? Was Haise eating enough? Was he getting along with his peers? Were his superiors treating him well? Were his subordinates minding him?

There was only so much Akira's status reports could appease him.

* * *

It had been too long since he'd seen the boy and he'd grown anxious. Work had kept them separated far too long for the older man's tastes. He hadn't even been able to return the book he'd borrowed. Akira's amusement at the situation wasn't helping either.

He'd been close to manufacturing an excuse to summon his student when an incident occurred. He seized the opportunity of course. While he had to discuss Haise's lapse of control, he mostly just wanted to see him again.

Despite looking forward to their meeting for so long, Arima could hardly remember it. He was pretty sure he had finally been able to return the book he had borrowed. Or at least he hoped, since the book was missing now. There was also some light scolding he was sure, as that had been his cover for summoning Haise. But it seemed that he had forgotten everything else in exchange for never forgetting what his dear apprentice had said.

Haise had called him 'Father'. It had sent such a pleasantly warm feeling through him. It made him feel like he belonged to someone for the first time in his life.

The words had rung with such a sense of rightness. He felt the feeling solidify and lock into place, never to escape again.

Yes. He was Haise's father. And Haise was his most precious son.

* * *

The warmth those words had given him lasted a long while. Unfortunately, besides a few brief book swaps, their work separated them again for an even longer while. Once again, he became torn between not wanting to bother his busy student and wanting to absolutely hoard all of his time. Already, his mind began to whir with crazy excuses to see his 'son'. Luckily for the many who would have gotten caught in the cross-fire of his schemes, the holidays arrived. And with them, arrived an invitation.

While he didn't like parties, he did like spending time with Haise. 'Besides, holidays were meant to be spent with family,' he reasoned.

Of course, everyone was surprised to see him.

He was also pleasantly surprised to find himself socializing successfully at Haise's Christmas party. He could only credit Haise for this though. Somehow, his very presence seemed to spurn on Arima's more human side. With his childish cheer for the holiday and company, Haise seemed to exude a relaxing aura that blanketed the whole house.

He'd made good friends despite the odds against him. Arima had felt genuine pride at this, untainted by worry for the first time. As he watched Haise flutter to and fro like the happy little social butterfly he was, Arima felt his heart warm in that way it did when Haise had called him father. He had helped to create such a kind and warm person. A cold reaper of death had given life to such a beautiful person.

He had to have been the oldest one there by quite a few years, but he found himself getting along well with this younger, lively crowd. It made him feel young at heart himself.

As the party waned later that night and Arima struggled to delay his departure, Haise approached him with a gift. It was a horse tiepin that punned on his name. It was as silly as Haise. So, of course he loved it.

Like always, Haise thanked him and smiled in that soft way that he always did for Arima.

He wasn't sure how long it would last him in the winter to come, but he left that night feeling the warmest and most human he'd ever had.

* * *

As it turns out, even a brutal winter couldn't stop Arima from thawing. Instead, it was a horribly humid summer night that froze him anew.

He had been too late. Haise had taken on the Owl by himself, and while he hadn't exactly lost the fight, he was losing himself.

And Arima was losing him too.

"You have to fight it, Haise," he ordered. Haise had never failed to accomplish his orders before and Arima prayed he wouldn't start now.

"I'm Haise. I'm Rank 1 Sasaki Haise. I'm a ghoul investigator. I AM _Haise_."

"Yes, you're Haise. You're Sasaki Haise," Arima latched onto the words just as desperately as the half-ghoul in his arms, "Good boy, Haise. You're doing good."

"I'm a good boy. I'm a ghoul investi- _I'm a ghoul, a crossbree_ \- **No** I am an investigator. I'm Rank 3-2-1 Sasaki. Haise is a good- I am a good- **I am Haise**."

Arima nodded, chanting the boy's name like he would forget it too.

"I am- I am- _Who?_ Who am I- I am Hai- **Yes** , I am Haise. Nice to meet you, I'm Haise. _Nice to eat you, I'm Ka_ \- **NO** , I am- **I am not, Kane** \- I am not-"

His entire body shuddered as his words suddenly cut off.

" _I am not Haise._ "

"You're Haise," Arima argued, as Haise began screeching denials, "You're Sasaki Haise."

He felt like screaming along with Haise, but he remained silent, having to gasp for air instead. Haise, his precious, gentle son who only deserved happiness, writhed in agony in his arms. And the omnipotent Reaper could do nothing for him, but breathlessly whisper lies. The halfling's hands clawed out at Arima, pleading for his "father" to save him, to put him out his misery. And Arima's heart broke into a billion pieces as Haise slowly slipped away like the figment of imagination he was.

In his place, Kaneki Ken cried.

* * *

 **A/N:** Sorry to leave it there, but I was trying to make it in time for Father's Day. Happy late Father's Day, Arima :')

But goodness, I'm so nervous about this, so please let me know what you think. Any and all feedback will be thoroughly appreciated. Even if it's a ":)" or a ":(". Or even a "meh". Also, any faves, follows or likes will make me wiggle like an ecstatic puppy. Yes, I am pathetically begging for feedback (it is scary to step out of your comfort zone). And as I said above, please feel free to pm me or ask in a review if you have any questions about the upcoming content.

And of course, **thank you** so much for reading and please have a wonderful day full of good food and fanfiction :D

 **~Dotti3**


	2. Chapter 2: Homecoming

**Author's Note:** Hellooooo! Thank you so much for all the wonderful reviews and support! Seriously, I was so surprised and happy! Thank you all soooo much!

I'm still crying about all the Arima angst in the latest chapters, so I decided to work more on this. At least Arima is relatively safe here, though not very sane I'll admit. Kaneki is also safe here too (from everything that is not Arima at least). But anyways, here's the newest chapter.

 **Warning:** Yandere!Paparima has arrived. Contains dismemberment, body horror and disturbing thoughts. Their relationship is not healthy in the slightest and I am very sorry. If you have any questions concerning chapter content, please message me.

* * *

It was hard to watch, but it was a sight one couldn't turn away from. The stoic Reaper was coming apart with each failed attempt to "revive" his son.

It was a gruesome cycle. Arima would scramble the half-ghoul's brain, trying to erase and restart. The half-ghoul would scream until he couldn't. His hoarse voice muffled by tears and the flesh Arima forced down his throat. Then they would wait.

Wait as Kaneki regenerated. Wait as he reawakened. Wait for him to answer a simple question.

"Do you know who you are?"

But he only answered with screams, because he did know. No matter how many times Arima tried to manually change his mind, Haise would not return.

But Arima wouldn't give up, though everyone wished he would,

"Who are you?" he repeated until the boy broke.

"Haise. I'm Haise," said Kaneki desperately.

"No." Arima gave pause. "Not yet. But you will be."

* * *

December 20th.

The date had been set.

It was Arima's birthday and now it would be Haise's as well. As it should be.

He remembered looking at Kaneki's birth certificate and being overcome with a sense of rightness. It was only natural that he had been born on Arima's birthday seeing as he was the greatest gift the man had ever received. It had made him feel that this child had been solely born for him, so that he would never have to be alone again. He liked this conclusion, because it also made him feel as if they would never be separated.

He had always wanted to keep his son's original birth date. It was something they shared after all. And the months between December and April had felt like too much separation between them. How could he celebrate his own birthday in good conscious when his son should be celebrating his own, too?

He couldn't.

And now, he wouldn't.

He looked fondly at his calendar and gleefully circled the day of his son's homecoming. It was nice to finally have something to look forward to. But the day was approaching fast and he still had so much to do. He had never felt so under prepared in his life.

But if it was for Haise, he could do anything.

* * *

Arima knew next to nothing about raising a child. Luckily for him, the internet did.

According to the world wide web, there was a lot of prep work before you could even bring your bundle of joy home. Children needed so many things, it seemed. Luckily, he had more money than he could ever spend. There was also this nifty little thing called online shopping. Before he knew it, his home was overrun with child care supplies and toys he had thought Haise might enjoy. Until Haise arrived, it helped him fill the void.

While most parents had nine months to ready for their new arrival, Arima had no such time. Hence, he had entered 'Intense Nesting' mode.

Sharp-edged furniture was padded and cabinets were child-locked. Electrical outlets were covered and baby gates were erected to stop his little one from toddling into danger zones.

Now that his whole house had been baby-proofed, there was still one thing left. His research had said to remove all potential threats to his child.

Unfortunately, this meant he had to baby-proof his own son.

* * *

He took his legs, so that he'd never run away. He took his arms, kagune and teeth, so that he'd never be able to hurt anyone, especially himself. He took his tongue, so that he would stop begging for death.

At first, everything kept growing back. Arima would cut out his kagune, only for it sprout from Haise again hours later. His tongue would regenerate within minutes of plucking it out. Even with all the blood and missing teeth, Haise's new tongue would immediately begin to plead for mercy. In Arima's eyes, he was showing his son the ultimate mercy. He was only doing this, because he cared. He loved his son and did not want to see him hurt himself.

Haise would understand in due time. Arima was just being a good parent.

Eventually, Haise's body seemed to understand what was wanted from it. Or at the very least, it understood that it would not be allowed to regenerate. Like a gardener carefully trims and prunes a bonsai tree or trains their vines to climb a trellis, Arima attentively cared for his rose. And in time, it bloomed for him most beautifully.

White hair and glassy grey eyes like his own. Soft rounded nubs where there had once been destructive limbs. A soft voice unimpeded by teeth and not directed by a tongue. A kagune too scarred and scared to ever emerge again. Truly, Arima had never seen something so beautiful and helpless.

He had to admit that he missed Haise's signature dual-toned hair. That black patch of hair overcoming white was a sign of Haise's mental health recovering. And Arima had felt proud as he watched Haise stabilize. It was Arima's support that had stabilized him after all.

But the inky black strands were bleached once more by the Reaper's attempts to resurrect something that never truly existed. It made Arima guiltily pleased. The starch white hair he had now suited him far better. It was another thing that tied the two together as more than teacher and student. It made it easier for Arima to pretend this way. That he and Haise were really father and son. That Haise was his biologically, beyond mere ownership rights.

He knew that if Haise opened his doe eyes, that those too, would only serve to liken them more. But Haise didn't open his eyes for a long time even after Arima finally brought him home. He had started to worry that his son would never wake again. As Haise spent his nights and days sleeping without a care, Arima spent those days and nights sleeplessly watching over his child. Just waiting for the slightest sign of awakening. He wanted to be the first person Haise saw in his new life. No, that wasn't right. He wanted to be the **only** person Haise ever saw again.

On the fourth night, just in time to be Arima's Christmas miracle, Haise finally began to stir in his sleep. All the while Arima watched on patiently, ready to welcome his son into his new world. A world meant only for two.

* * *

Kaneki had thought he was looking at his own reflection at first. Grey eyes so similar to his own, had been filled with such worry and desperation. Underneath those familiar eyes, shadows symbolizing unrest bloomed like bruises. He'd stared at those eyes he thought were his own for a long while, neither of them blinking.

It was Arima who had broken him of his illusion.

"Haise," the most prominent subject of his nightmares rasped with nothing but adoration. His eyes had begun to glisten like glass as he kept whispering that cursed name, "Haise."

Even though his eyes shone with love, Kaneki still flinched when his hands came to gently stroke his face. Arima's love was a terrifying thing.

He tried to scramble away. He tried to bring up his hands to deflect the touches or shield himself. But nothing happened.

 _He couldn't - Why couldn't he move? What -_

"Wahhh?" He tried to ask, but all that came out of his mouth was an unintelligible sound.

 _He didn't have a tongue. It's gone._

He belatedly realized that the same was true for his arms and legs as well. They were simply missing as if they had never been there in the first place. But Kaneki knew better. He could remember Arima cutting them off. Just cutting and ripping and hacking away at him. _Cutting_ **Cutting** _CUT_ TING. So many times. Until they didn't come back anymore. He was horrified to think about what else was missing. Just what else had this monster taken from him?

' _What have you done to me?'_ Kaneki's mind fearfully whispered as he looked up at the man looming over him.

Arima only smiled serenely as he continued to crowd closer, completely blocking out what little moonlight filtered in through the window. He could do nothing to escape as Arima's calloused hands came to cup his cheeks and his dry lips descended on his forehead. He could only stay accept Arima's attempt at affection.

With eyes still shining sickly, Arima pulled away enough to meet his gaze. His smile and the words he spoke next were so warm, but Kaneki could feel absolutely nothing but the chills creeping up his spine.

The words he'd always so desperately wanted to hear were finally given to him in such a cruel way.

"Welcome home, Haise."

After all, home was the place you could never leave.

* * *

 **A/N:** Sorry this was shorter than the last chapter, but I felt that this was a good stopping point. I actually have almost 10 thousand words written for this, but I still need to organize everything into proper chapters (which is the hardest part for me). Anyways, there is definitely more to come :D

Sooo...how was it? As always when I write something, I am incredibly nervous. I'm sorry to beg so pathetically, but please tell me your thoughts. Was it good or bad? Is there anything I can do to improve? Was there anything you liked or disliked in particular? Please don't worry about hurting my feelings and even a simple ":(" or ":)" will make me happy. Once again, sorry to ask, but any feedback will be greatly appreciated.

With that said, **thank you** so much for reading! If you have any questions about upcoming content or anything, please feel free to message me :D Thanks and have a wonderful day!

 **~Dotti3**


	3. Chapter 3: Even in Dreams

**Author's Note:** Greetings, loved ones~ Well, this took forever and I am so sorry. _So very sorry!_ I really struggled to write this chapter for some reason, but I finally forced myself until it eventually flowed. I know where I'm going and I even already have the ending and a lot of the middle written, but it's just so hard sometimes to get there and make every piece fit. Also, this is a bit of an experimental piece? So please excuse any weird formatting or tenses. I'm playing with using characters' thoughts more, so anything in italics or parenthesis ( _especially if it's in italics and parenthesis lol_ ) are thoughts.

Also, whoa! I read the reviews and all the wonderful feedback and I love each and every one of you! Those encouraging reviews really helped me to not give up on writing this fic. Humor (or silly, crack fics at least) is easier for me to express, so sometimes it's hard for me to write more serious things. That said, **thank you** so much for all the support!

 **Warning:** Yandere!Paparima is here to stay. Please be careful, because this chapter contains suicidal thoughts and a touch of violence. If you have any questions regarding chapter content, please contact me.

* * *

The first few weeks had been filled with countless suicide attempts. Kaneki had tried everything from suffocation via his many fluffy pillows to purposely choking on his food. He'd even tried to piss off Arima enough to finally end his suffering. But each attempt was thwarted by an ever-patient Arima or his own damn regenerative powers.

If the house hadn't been so thoroughly child-proofed or if he had the use of his limbs, it would be a very different story. Even if he at least had his teeth and tongue, then perhaps he'd be able to repeatedly bite off his tongue until he choked to death on his own blood. It wasn't the prettiest way to go, sure, but he preferred it over his new life.

As it stood however, Arima ran quite the effective suicide watch. Kaneki wasn't sure how long it had taken, though he wanted to believe that it had at least been a month, but Arima had worn him down eventually. Now, he was too tired to even try to die. While he longed for death, he knew he wouldn't be able to obtain it. Fortunately for Kaneki, he was used to wanting things he would never receive (happiness, freedom, love, etc.), so he was able to deal with that relatively well.

He had come to accept that he would never escape his handler, especially after Arima had "childproofed" him. And he knew that no one would come to rescue him. No one ever had before and no one would save him now either. Even the sweet embrace of death was denied to him. And so Kaneki escaped his reality the only way he could.

In his dreams, at least, he could be free.

At least, until Arima woke him again.

* * *

He had wished for a happy dream, so it was no surprise that he was granted a nightmare instead. ' _Perhaps nightmare isn't an accurate term,_ ' he thought as he began to recognize his surroundings. No, this was a memory he realized with growing horror.

He tried to remind himself that in reality, he was safe (relatively) and snug in his too comfortable bed (crib). But he could only feel the cold, wet slosh as he stumbled through the dark sewers. He could only feel the all-consuming pain as he looked desperately for an escape from the insanity that hounded him. He felt the same feelings of hopelessness as he had then, knowing that he would never see the light of day again. But then Hide had appeared. Smiling brightly and teasing him as if Kaneki hadn't absolutely lost his humanity.

Hide had smiled. Told him it was okay. Said that they would go home together. Even subconsciously knowing how this would end, Kaneki felt his heart swelling at Hide's acceptance. But even without prior knowledge of this particular scene, as a lover of tragedies, Kaneki should have foreseen what would follow. After all, the higher you climb, the further you fall when everything goes to hell.

Suffice to say, they couldn't go home together. Kaneki was badly hurt and Hide - Hide wanted to help him just like he always had. Whereas Kaneki's mind had once shielded him from this memory, he now remembered everything.

"Eat me," Hide had demanded with a smile, his hand gently guiding Kaneki's head to his shoulder. Injured as he was, Hide easily overpowered him when he began to struggle.

"Sorry, 'Neki. I'm sorry." That had been all the warning he had received before Hide's hand grabbed a hold of his hair and pulled him even with his face. For a moment, he stared dazedly into his best friend's eyes - so determined and devastated at the same time. And then there were lips touching his. A tongue in his mouth. The sweet taste of blood pouring down his throat.

After months of consuming nothing but foul-tasting ghouls, Kaneki found himself finally consumed by his hunger. And in turn, Hide was consumed by him.

All too soon, Kaneki was alone again and begging for Death to save him from his misery.

And ever-doting, Death came to collect him.

* * *

"Haise," Arima spoke softly, not wanting to startle his slumbering child. He flinched awake regardless of Arima's gentle tone. "It's time to wake up."

Deathly cold, but deft fingers chased away his tears as he leveled his adoptive father a miserable look. _Kill me. Please kill me._ But such mental pleas were easily ignored if Arima even noticed them in the first place. If Kaneki's screams hadn't been able to get through to the man, then surely his pathetically begging face stood no chance. As it were, the dense Death God merely chalked up his "pout" to his son's hatred of waking up.

Arima couldn't help, but to be amused by Haise's antics. His son was always so sleepy, yet he did nothing but sleep. And he grew grouchy when he couldn't sleep. He raised a hand to smooth away the furrow from Haise's brow, but the frown stayed firmly in place. _Oh well_ , he thought. It was nothing a good breakfast couldn't fix.

He gently deposited the boy into his high chair, fastening the straps to keep him from falling out. His boy always got a case of the wiggles during feeding time. If it wasn't for the restraints, he'd probably tumble right out of the chair and split his head wide open. And the Reaper didn't want that.

Still reeling from his earlier dream, Kaneki stared in mute terror as Arima placed an innocent-looking bowl in front of him. He knew all too well what the butterfly themed bowl contained. His stomach twisted in both horror and hunger as Arima lifted a cutesy-looking pink spoon filled with flesh his way.

There was no way he could eat now. Not with the memory of eating Hide so fresh in his min- _Fresh. Hide had been so fresh. So lovely and lively until he died._

 _"Eat me, Kaneki,"_ the memory of Hide whispered in his ear. Kaneki could almost feel his hot breath in his ear ( _centipedes in his ear- In his head, scrambling everything up, scrambling his insides gently-_ ) and his high chair binds suddenly felt too similar to the one's Jason had used. Too similar to Hide's hands as he held him down and forced him to _eat, eat, eAT, EAT, EATEATEAT - The strong devour the weak, Kaneki!_

Arima paused when his son began to flail in earnest. As usual, Haise turned his face from the spoon laden with the CCG-supplied mush. Arima firmly grasped his chin and tried again only for the boy to purse his pouting lips. It was hard to keep a stern face when Haise was being so cute.

They had come a long way from those early days where the Reaper had to bottle feed him. It seemed like just yesterday that Haise was suckling his bottle. Arima was so proud. His boy was growing so fast. A little too fast…It was hard to watch your baby grow up. Growing up meant leaving and Arima didn't want that. _No, he would never allow Haise to just-_

Arima jerked out of his thoughts as Haise released a cry. He blinked uncomprehendingly at the small bead of tears trickling out of his son's scrunch-closed eyes. He blinked even more uncomprehendingly at his own hand that had apparently broken the boy's jaw in his distraction. _What had he-_ His frozen spell was broken as Haise let out another quiet whimper.

Dropping the spoon he had been holding ( _it was broken, as broken as Haise's jaw - completely shattered, broken, but oh-so-pretty just like-_ ), he rushed to remedy his mistake. But his mind was a mess and he didn't know what to do. He scoured his mind for answers, but the baby books he'd read had never covered what to do if you accidentally broke your child's jaw while feeding them. _How very unhelpful and narrow-minded of them_ , he scorned. He ignored the small accusing voice that reminded him that _most parents don't accidentally mutilate their child. And most people don't intentionally mutilate their child to keep them from leaving. He's going to leave you, Kishou. He's going to leave and you'll be all alone again. He's going to lea-_

Haise's voice had escalated to loud, wordless screams as Arima crushed him to his chest totally heedless of his broken jaw. In his panic, Arima had let his fatherly instincts take over. Unfortunately for the father and son duo, Arima's fatherly instincts were a never-ending mantra of ' _Don't let him go. Don't let him go_.'

He muttered apologies as he transitioned his death hold into a proper hug, speed walking to the first aid kit he kept in the bathroom. Even in his rush, he made sure to carefully and gently place his son on the counter to free up his hands. Haise's cries had mostly quieted, but remained to remind Arima of just how bad he had screwed up. He scrambled through the silly, cartoon band aids he'd purchased for Haise, but had hoped to never use. But band aids alone couldn't fix broken bones and so they were completely useless. Everything in the kit was useless. Haise's cries picked up again when Arima threw the kit across the room, creating even more of a mess to deal with.

Grabbing his phone, Arima hesitated. _Who could he even call? Should he just call an ambulance? Or would it be faster if he ran to a hospital? But he couldn't do that, because Haise was part ghoul and_ \- He paused as it occurred to him that his son was a half-ghoul with super regeneration. He stopped his panicked pondering to peer at his son. The boy was sniffling and hiccuping in the wake of all the stress he'd endured, but his jaw had completely healed.

Arima let out a shaky sigh of relief as he slumped over Haise, awkwardly trapping him against the bathroom mirror. Cautiously, his hands came up to skim over his son's jaw, dropping a kiss into his messy hair when Haise gasped as if expecting pain.

"I'm sorry, Haise," he pleaded for forgiveness, "Papa didn't mean to - Papa's sorry. You're okay now, Haise."

What would have taken most people a month to heal, Haise had recovered from within minutes. Arima broke everything he touched. He was a reaper who only knew how to take and take and take. But Haise would heal no matter how many times he was broken. He would continue to give and give no matter how much Arima took from him. _Truly remarkable_ , Arima thought adoringly as he trailed kisses over Haise's freshly healed jaw. _You're perfect for me._

* * *

That night, Arima dreamed about a butterfly that even he couldn't crush with all of his terrible strength. It was beautiful and strong even though it looked so fragile. It changed colors and shapes before his enraptured eyes, but it did not truly change. And most importantly, it did not break. He held it tight in his hands and it could not escape. No matter how much it beat its wings and fluttered for freedom, his butterfly could not leave him. He awoke with a smile.

Right on time, the baby monitor came to life with a warbled whine. Not even needing to look at the clock, Arima knew it was 12 in the morning. He grabbed his glasses and quickly glided the short distance to the nursery. As usual, Haise's cheeks were slick with tears as he choked out cries. Another nightmare.

Arima reached for the boy, easily hoisting him into a hug. "I'm here, Haise. You're safe now," he reassured as Haise's cries grew muffled by his shoulder. He grabbed the little crossbreed plushie from the crib and slowly made his way to their reading corner.

Without much thought, Arima grabbed a well-worn book and flicked on the lamp, bathing the room in a soft glow as he plopped down in the rocking chair. He settled Haise on his lap, snatching a quilt to bundle them up for story time. That night, instead of counting sheep to sleep, the father and son read about a sheep that wasn't quite a sheep. Part lamb, part kitten, it was a curious creature.

By the time Arima reached the last ominous lines, Haise was fast asleep with a tear running down his cheek.

* * *

 **A/N:** And there will hopefully be more to come soon~ Apparently yanderes don't make such good parents. Good thing Kaneki's a veteran (especially in canon, my goodness!) when it comes to dealing with them ;'D

As I mentioned, this was a bit experimental, so I'm pretty nervous. Please tell me your thoughts? Was anything (formatting and content-wise) too weird? Anything you disliked or (hopefully) liked? Please don't worry about hurting my feelings as every review helps me to improve and/or motivates me to write. Once again, I apologize for the lateness and thank everyone for the support!

Thanks for reading and have a wonderful day/night~

 **~Dotti3**


	4. Chapter 4: Hope and Other Lies

**Author's Note:** As always, I must apologize for this late update and thank all the wonderful people who have supported me in writing this. Seriously, I kinda live for feedback, so your reviews, faves and follows make me so happy. Thank you!

As thanks, here's an extra long chapter~

This is kinda an info dump, because two reviewers (iGracias por tus comentarios, daliapvperez! Thank you for the review, Gumokoa!) asked for how the rest of the CCG is reacting and I couldn't resist bringing them into the fray. I usually break up my world-building, but this time I got carried away, so sorry in advance. I promise that there will be more action next time~

 **Warning:** References to past child abuse and unhealthy coping mechanisms. More passing mentions of suicidal thoughts. Arima's and Kaneki's relationship continues to be unhealthy, so please be careful.

* * *

 _...Months before Haise's Homecoming..._

 _As a father himself, Yoshitoki understood Arima's feelings to some extent. He knew that the Reaper would do anything to keep his child, anything to "protect" him. Even if it meant leaving the CCG that had bred and kept him all these years. As the Bureau Director of the CCG, he couldn't allow their most valuable asset to simply leave. No, the Reaper had to stay and that meant sacrificing one of their other valuable assets._

 _"It is a shame what has become of Investigator Sasaki," he began, because truly it was a pity. The half-ghoul had been so promising and now he had been rendered useless. Well, mostly useless. If he couldn't serve as their new reaper, he could at least serve as a chain to bind the old one. Besides, the investment in him was not completely lost. The legacy he had left behind in the Quinx was sure to be bountiful in the future. With all that in mind, he decided, "In honor of his prolific work, Sasaki Haise will be allowed to live out the rest of his life peacefully. I trust that I can leave him in your hands again, Kishou?"_

 _At his boss's proclamation, the called upon man relaxed, any thoughts of escaping with his son vanishing. There would be no need for that it seems. "It would be my honor, Bureau Director."_

 _"Good, good. We can go over his arrangements at a later date." The Washuu waved dismissively. Arima bowed, turning to leave. However, before he could reach the door, the Washuu's voice rang out with one more command. "Ah, but I can't help but to worry that the CCG's effectiveness will suffer from Sasaki's loss."_

 _Understanding his superior's true meaning instantly, he promised, "I will take responsibility and pick up the slack."_

 _The Bureau Director smiled in satisfaction. "I'm counting on you then, Kishou."_

* * *

...Present Day...

Due to his increased workload and duties as a single father, Arima hardly loitered around the office these days. Killing was his forte, not paperwork after all. He actually preferred avoiding the office these days, since there was always a horde of Haise's old friends waiting to bombard him with questions.

While the higher uppers knew what had become of Haise, the others were under the belief that Haise would be returning to them after he had been "reset". During the first few months, Arima had been approached by concerned coworkers who asked after their missing friend. It vaguely reminded Arima of neighborhood kids knocking on the door to see if their sick friend could come out to play. But the situation was not so light-hearted.

Itou, for once not smiling with that fox face of his, had solemnly asked, "Is Haise...you know?"

"He's not himself yet," Arima answered as truthfully as possible.

He'd given the same answer to Juuzou when he asked to visit his friend. Whereas Itou had given a shaky smile and wished for Haise's quick return, Juuzou merely pouted. "Ehhh, but it's boring without him here. I don't really care if he's Kaneki Ken or Sasaki Haise right now. I just want to see my friend again."

As much as he appreciated Juuzou's sentiments for Haise, he found himself tensing up. Juuzou would look at their situation and he wouldn't understand. And because of his misunderstanding, he might try to "free" his friend. Though he was confident in his strength, Arima wouldn't risk that. So he lied. "He wouldn't want you to see him like this."

Though the man had hummed in acceptance, Arima spotted a rebellious glint in his eye. He'd have to keep a close watch on that one.

The Quinx - his grandchildren he remembered calling them in a happier time - were a handful to ward off. To various degrees, they all missed their mentor. Even the sullen Urie Kuki had asked after Haise a few times. But drowning in his new responsibilities and his depression from losing two teammates, he accepted Arima's less-than-pleasing answers. He, too, had been one of the ones left to pick up the slack left behind by Haise.

The other two were the ones who gave him trouble. Yonebayashi Saiko was a mess of emotions that Arima had no idea how to handle. With constantly leaking eyes and pathetic sniffles, she would beg to see "her Maman". With no regard to propriety, she would latch onto him and vow to not let go until she had seen Haise. While such behavior would hardly be tolerated from anyone else, Arima couldn't scold the girl. He found her endearing, her childish nature reminding him of the tantrums Haise threw both in the past and now. Even if not by blood, she was undeniably Haise's child.

So he dealt with her as softly as a killing machine could. He'd comfort her with lies, telling her that Haise was sure to get better soon and return to them. That he didn't remember them at all, but that he surely would. But it wasn't a lie when he told her that he was taking excellent care of her Maman.

The sincerity of the last promise was usually enough to quell her meltdowns enough for her squad to peel her off him. As troublesome as it was to deal with her, she did not raise the hairs on back of his neck like Haise's youngest student did.

At a glance, the boy was reminiscent of the Kaneki Ken he had seen in past photos. Shy, bookish, but polite. But a fretful Arima had thoroughly researched Haise's students before he became their mentor. And this one was the one that had most alarmed him.

Mutsuki Tooru's concern was earnest, but something else too. Darker. Arima felt that he completely understood the look in the younger boy's eyes. A possessiveness that screamed "give him back" and a sharpness that threatened pain beyond death. As strong as he was, Arima pointedly avoided the boy that reeked of slaughter just as much as he did.

As for the others, they knew better than to cause trouble. Though they hadn't been told, somehow both Akira and Hirako knew the truth about Haise. Though they never said anything, it was written in the increased tension in Hirako's shoulders and the sadness in Akira's eyes. They knew, but they couldn't and wouldn't do anything.

Fura probably knew too. He had a way of knowing more than what Arima was willing to admit. But he was also easy enough to avoid. After all, the Reaper was eternally busy with granting death.

And Ui would have known too if only he looked. But as it was, his eyes seemed to be stuck gazing blankly off into the distance. No doubt, his mind was full of the student he had lost. As a mentor, he had become too involved. Not that Arima could scold him for that without being hypocritical. All the same, the "Hope of the Arima Squad" had been extinguished and left to resemble a burnt out candle now rather than the blazing light of justice he had tried to be when Hairu was still alive. When Haise was a part of them. When everyone was not barely holding onto to their will to live.

Simpler times, those were.

Beyond Haise's mourners hounding him for updates, no one else dared to disturb the Reaper anymore. They were normal people with normal lives. And in their eyes, he was a god of death to be worshiped and feared, but never truly loved. Though they never said a word and were always quick to look away, their eyes spoke for them. They were scared of him.

Being their god was a lonely thing, but it was all he had known before Haise had happened. Once upon a time, Haise had served as a bridge between his famous father and the pencil-pushers. Though the boy was just as deadly and hardly human, Haise's infectious cheer had broken down the social barrier that existed between them. Instead of silent admiration, the bubbly boy was greeted with good-natured teasing and genuine grins. If anything, that was where Haise's true strength came from. He had even managed to coax soft emotions and smiles out of the recluse Reaper that had made him seem human.

Without Haise to encourage them, everyone had retreated from the death god once more. He would be lying if he said it didn't make him feel empty. But he didn't need their shallow pleasantries and nervous interactions. He needed Haise. And he did have him - completely possessing him in a way he had never imagined.

So long as Arima had Haise, he still had hope.

* * *

Kaneki had no such hope.

He avoided looking to his sides, knowing he'd see the bars of his crib. Such a sight always reminded him of his current imprisonment. No matter how nicely Arima had decorated his "nursery", the room was still a cell. After all, no matter how many treats and toys you put in it, a cage was still a cage. He faintly recalled Dr. Kanou's speech of a twisted world entrapped in a birdcage. At the time, he hadn't understood. Or rather, he hadn't cared to even try to understand. But with his cage more visible than ever, Kaneki felt that he could finally understand the mad scientist. It was an uncomfortable thought.

He shuddered as he remembered the twisted man's faux fatherly smile as he invited him to join his "family". And he remembered the parental disappointment he wore when Kaneki had rejected his offer. He'd looked down on the young man that he had doomed as if he were just a spoiled child throwing a tantrum.

Just what was it with these twisted men trying to adopt him? At the very least, Arima didn't experiment on him. A crib was much better than being strapped to a cold and sterile lab table. Especially, when the crib was as comfortable as the one he practically lived in.

These days, his crib was more of a nest than a proper bed, filled to the brim with various blankets and pillows. This was only to be expected, Kaneki mused with some humor. After all, Arima was a dove and doves made nests for their young. Even if their nestlings weren't exactly doves themselves apparently. Not that Kaneki could complain.

He rather liked his little nest full of soft things. And it was always a bit funny to see Arima bring home yet another blanket, plushy or pillow as if Kaneki needed another. Thanks to that though, Kaneki had more than enough things to comfort him. Or to suffocate himself with if he was so inclined.

But suicidal thoughts aside, he enjoyed his bed even though he only used it during the day. Most of his nights were spent in Arima's room or sleeping in the rocking chair with his over-indulgent caretaker. Far too often, they had both dozed off in the rocker after reading into the wee hours of the morning.

It wasn't entirely his fault either. Rare as they were, there had been times when he had slept peacefully on his own. Unfortunately, he'd be woken by Arima who was anxiously waiting to be needed. It would seem that the both of them had developed an unnatural dependency on each other.

Kaneki liked to poetically think, that on the days when his nightmares left him alone, they were plaguing the reaper instead.

But just what could scare a man that even monsters feared?

Misplacing his glasses? Accidentally showing up to work in just his underwear? Butterflies? What was Arima afraid of?

As amusing as it was to speculate about the stoic man having silly fears, Kaneki knew what the man was really afraid of. He'd seen Arima's frightened face that day Haise had "gone to sleep". He'd seen how Arima's fear had progressed into insanity when he realized that Haise was gone forever. He still saw the lingering fear in Arima's expression when he gazed upon him, no doubt dreading the day death or life's circumstances separated them forever.

Arima looked very vulnerable in these moments. As if he could break. As if he could die from grief alone. And that scared Kaneki more than Arima's invulnerability ever had.

Shaking off his troubling thoughts, he stared up at the solar system dancing above his head. His grey eyes first found the small, lonesome Pluto doing its wide orbit. As if hypnotized, his gaze followed it for a full orbit, before locating the next planet and then the next. His mind supplied him with memorized facts as he surveyed each planet. His eyes landed on Earth and he solemnly thought of home. He stared at the little moon and found himself missing an eccentric man. As always, the sun reminded him of Hide. And even if it wasn't the real sun, it still hurt him when he stared at it too long. He missed Hide most of all. His eyes flitted back to the lonely Pluto and he could only sympathize. It was so far away from the sun, so far away from everyone. If Hide was the Sun, then he must be Pluto.

The baby mobile was clearly well-made and probably expensive. He imagined Tsukiyama most likely had something similar above his crib as a baby. His mind trailed off as he pondered about what Tsukiyama was like as a baby. The only thing he could really conclude was that he must've been spoiled rotten and had chubby little cheeks.

While too intricate for a baby to truly enjoy, it was perfect entertainment for a bored half-ghoul who had been forcibly infantilized. If he was honest, he quite enjoyed his room. He refused to admit it was a nursery.

The ceiling was as dark as the night sky. On bad days, it reminded him of the void he'd been staring into for most of his life. It reminded him of those few months he's been without his sight. But on good days, he was able to focus on the green glow of the artificial stars. Arima had painstakingly recreated the night sky for him. It complimented his old night light well.

As ashamed as he was to admit, Kaneki appreciated the soft glow of the night light. Even if it was something that was meant only for children, Kaneki hadn't ever had such a thing to chase away the many fears of his childhood. He had been just as afraid of the dark as any other child, but he had also been poor. And poor children couldn't afford the luxury of comfort or safety. Being frightened was much better than being starved after all. So eventually, he learned to ignore all the monsters lurking in the shadows whether they be imagined or real.

But Kaneki's fear of the dark had never ceased. Even as he became a monster in his own right, he found himself anxious of the bigger and badder monsters that stalked the same streets as him. His fear had only worsened during his time as Haise. He had been afraid of most things, so it was no surprise that nighttime made him anxious too. Between his nightmares and over-active imagination, he was a mess. It was Arima, with his unconventional outlook on life and lack of social propriety, that had solved his problem.

While most people probably would have told their twenty something half-ghoul student to just grow up, Arima had simply shrugged and figured his bed was big enough for the both of them. And for the days when he couldn't be there to chase away his student's bad dreams, he bought a nightlight. Arima had little sense of what was normal and Haise had even less of an idea. Thus, the Death God's disciple cut down hundreds of ghouls by day and slept needing the assurance of a nightlight by night. He hadn't realized it was strange until Urie had spotted it in his room and given him a long judging look. But then again, long, judging looks were typical Urie behavior.

Urie. He'd always been so prickly. He hoped the troubled youth had learned to soften up for the sake of the others. He wondered how the Quinx were faring without him. Did they miss him? Did anyone at the CCG miss him? Did anyone even care?

Sometimes, he would lose himself to happy day dreams of being rescued by his friends. He'd smile as he imagined Akira scolding Arima as if the man was just an unruly cat that kept climbing on tables. Sometimes he imagined Juuzou, Itou and the Quinx rushing to his rescue. Sometimes he imagined Touka and all his old ghoul friends breaking him out of his prison. More often than not, he imagined both sides putting aside their differences and teaming up to save him. Those were the happiest day dreams.

They were also the most impossible.

Kaneki was not a ghoul. He was not a human. And he certainly was not a bridge between them.

People couldn't be bridges and they couldn't be homes. People were people. Fleeting and flawed.

Now that he had been removed from the world, he finally understood it.

It was just as wrong as he had once believed.

* * *

"They miss you. Everyone misses you, Haise," Arima admitted one night. He had never talked about the outside world. About all the people Kaneki had been forced to leave behind again and again. But now, he whispered about the outside with his quietest inside voice.

"I miss you, Haise," Arima whispered into his hair. It was as close as he would ever come to admitting that Kaneki was not Haise.

The nightlight glowed comfortingly in the corner, but Kaneki found that he was still scared. Scared of the darkness in Arima's voice. In his eyes.

Kaneki's head throbbed with phantom pain as he remembered the last time Arima had succumbed to darkness. He remembered the same darkness from when his mother would lose control. He never wanted to go through that again.

Fueled by desperation, he reached for him with what remained of his arms and hugged him close. It was something Haise would have done, It was what he used to do as a child to quell his mother's rage. Pathetically offering up affection and pleas of love so that he could avoid pain. Love born fear wasn't love and he knew this. But if he could convince himself, then maybe he could convince them too.

So he lied that night as he had done many times before. With a mouth that couldn't speak words, he mouthed words of love hoping that Arima's cold eyes would be able to see them. Hoping that Arima would believe his lies.

When the sun finally spilled over the horizon, Kaneki found that it had been enough. Arima smiled at him, a warm light emanating from his eyes as he returned Kaneki's fear-fueled hug.

Kaneki smiled back and that was a lie, too.

Behind his smile, he fretted for the day that he couldn't chase away the darkness.

Because he couldn't be the bridge that Anteiku had wanted. He couldn't be the home that so many strays had wanted. And he couldn't be the light that Arima had needed. He couldn't be Haise.

But he could lie.

And so that's what he did.

* * *

 **A/N:** So the mystery of how the CCG is reacting to this situation has been cleared. They will trickle back into the story later, but I thought it would be a good idea to share how they're all currently feeling. Also, I probably wasted too much time exploring how Kaneki feels again, but I just really wanted to expand more on what "the nursery" looks like. Sorry if I wasn't graceful about this info dump, but I'm glad the information is out there now.

Once again, thank you sooooo much for all the support! I really wish I could hug each and every one of you that have encouraged me! You don't know just how happy all the reviews, follows and faves have made me. This is completely selfish, but please continue to support this story and let me know what you think. You are all golden and I love you!

Oh! And all those having to contend with Hurricane Harvey, please stay safe! I'm praying for y'all! I hope everyone has a safe, wonderful day! Thanks for reading!

 **~Dotti3**


	5. Chapter 5: Wither

**Author's Note:** I'm back and I'm so sorry for the slow update! But thank you so much for all the love and support! Truly, your comments are what keep this fic alive, so thank you so much! Now I've kept you waiting for long enough, so without further ado, please enjoy~

* * *

In a quiet room lit only by the daylight filtering through a barred window, Kaneki found himself scanning familiar bookshelves. His father's library, he realized with some awe. It had been a long time since he'd seen it, but there was no mistake. All the books that had kept him company as a child greeted him like old friends. The shelves loomed over him in a way that should have felt intimidating, but only felt encompassing and sheltering like a hug. The books were just as big as he remembered and full of even bigger words just waiting for him to read and understand them.

Eagerly, he reached for one of his favorites, but quickly found it was too high. Rather than it being too high, he realized with a troubled frown as he observed his hands, he was too small.

 _'Why am I a child again?'_ He asked himself, vaguely distraught. Glimpses of reality scratched at his mind, feelings of an endless hunger and hopelessness gnawed at the pit of his stomach, but he fearfully shoved away those thoughts.

Desperate for the comfort of a familiar book, he reached for the book that sat just out of his reach. But no matter how much he stretched or hopped, he couldn't even touch the book. Unsure, he placed his foot on a shelf, testing his weight, only to retreat when it gave an ominous groan. With a racing heart, he glanced towards his mother's craft table and let out a sigh of relief when he found it empty.

But with the relief, came a crushing sense of loneliness. The house was too quiet and big and dark when he was the only one in it. Even though he knew he couldn't reach it, he made another futile grab at the book, crumbling to the ground with a quiet cry when it yet again eluded him.

"Is this the book you wanted?" a kind voice asked. With blurry eyes, Kaneki looked up from where he had rather pathetically crumpled and found the book he had been trying unsuccessfully to grab delivered to him. He followed the hands offering him the book up to their owner. The face that looked down at him was just as kind as the voice had been, relaxing Kaneki in a way that usually only books could.

'He's beautiful,' Kaneki thought shyly. He was also a bit of a contradiction. The young man was almost as big as an adult, but he wore a school uniform. His long, dark hair already had a few white hairs mixed in, yet his face was soft and full from youth. And he wore glasses just like his mother, but behind the lenses, his eyes were different. Not tired in the least and entirely focused on Kaneki with a softness that he couldn't understand.

He patiently repeated his question from earlier, causing Kaneki to flush and hurry to respond, realizing his own rudeness.

"Y-yes," he managed to stutter out, carefully enveloping the book into his arms, "Thank you, mister."

Kaneki flinched when the other's hand suddenly moved towards him, but soon relaxed when his head was only patted with a gentle hand.

"What a good boy you are, Ken," the man smiled so kindly yet again under Kaneki's confused gaze.

'How did he know my name?' Kaneki pondered in a daze, 'More importantly, who is he? And how did he even get in here? I locked the door didn't I? Did I somehow let him in?'

He remembered his mother's scolding about strangers with some dread. She would be so angry if she realized what Kaneki had done.

He looked up ready to politely ask the stranger to leave, but found that he just couldn't. The man had been so kind to him. Had given Kaneki the book he couldn't reach, hadn't lost his temper even when Kaneki hadn't listened to him and had pet his head so gently when he'd been thanked.

And his smile. It was beautiful and comforting in a way that Kaneki didn't know smiles could be.

And without him, Kaneki would be left alone again in a house that was too quiet, big and dark.

So when the kind stranger had neatly folded himself into a sitting position next to Kaneki with a book of his own, he followed suit, mimicking the awkward way the other sat with his legs drawn to his chest. The other only seemed amused at this, fondly smiling at him again.

Flustered, Kaneki tried to focus on his father's book again.

Kaneki only knew his father through books and what little information he'd managed to glean from his mother. There were no pictures to look at and so Kaneki would look in the mirror, sifting through his own features, matching what he could to his mom and pondering over what remained. 'Mother's nose is different from mine. Does that mean I have Father's?' he'd wonder, but never ask.

He wanted to meet his father, but you can't meet dead people. At the very least, he wanted to know him. And so he poured over the books he's left behind. He'd tried to form his father out of the words he read. He turned each page as if it was another step closer to the man that eluded his memories.

Usually when the words he didn't know outweighed the ones he knew, he sat and daydreamed about what kind of person his father was.

But today, he only found it frustrating.

"Is there something wrong?" the young man asked, observing that Kaneki had been staring at the same page for quite a while.

Kaneki nervously traced the words he couldn't understand as he contemplated telling the kind man. Would he help him to understand? Or would he be angry at Kaneki for his stupidity? With his mother, it could be both depending on her mood.

Even though he was scared, he decided that he wanted to understand those unknown words. And he wanted to understand his father, too. So shy as could be, he whispered, "I don't know what this means," as he pointed to an unfamiliar word.

The man wasn't angry in the slightest. He didn't call Kaneki stupid or a bother.

"Wither. It's what things do before they die," he explained steadily.

Processing the new definition, he timidly asked, "So, withering is a type of sickness?"

"You could say that." The man smiled, glancing down at the youth fondly, "Have you ever picked a flower?"

Kaneki nodded.

"It got smaller and smaller didn't it?" he asked, "It lost it's color and fragrance too."

"It crumbled away," Kaneki added, feeling sad when he remembered the countless flowers that he had picked.

"That's what it means to wither," he concluded.

Sweet, innocent Kaneki frowned in confusion, "Why do we pick flowers when we know they'll just die?"

"Because love is cruel," the man explained, "When you see a pretty flower, what do you do?"

"Take it home with me," Kaneki mumbled, thinking of all the pretty flowers he had picked for his Mama.

"You can't just leave it right? You pluck it from its home and take it to yours. But what happens to the flower afterwards?"

Kaneki thought of those same beautiful flowers that he had proudly showed his mother. How they would shrivel and die over time. How they would be thrown away once they lost their beauty. He suddenly felt guilty as he admitted, "They die."

"They die," the man agreed, "Because they are beautiful. And beautiful things must be loved and broken."

"I'm sorry," Kaneki blubbered, suddenly feeling wretched for all the things he'd thoughtlessly broken with his love.

"You don't need to apologize," the young man said, his voice gentling. He didn't scold Kaneki and Kaneki forgot to flinch even when his hands moved too quickly to wipe the tears from his face. "To be loved by you is worth being broken for."

When Kaneki only cried harder, the stranger only tugged him into a hug that felt as safe as his father's books made him feel. His hands were once again petting his hair gently as Kaneki clung to his shirt and burrowed into his warmth.

"It's okay," he promised, "It's okay, Haise."

Dizzy with emotion, Kaneki tried to correct him, "That's not my -"

"It's okay, Haise," he repeated, "Father is here now. It's time to wake up."

* * *

"It's okay, Haise" Arima spoke softly as he brushed away tears, not wanting to startle his slumbering child. "Father is here now. It's time to wake up."

The Reaper's frozen facade thawed into a fond smile when Haise only blinked at him groggily. He finger-combed the other's sleep-mussed hair into a semblance of order, before scooping him up. Haise only slumped into Arima's hold with a half-hearted whine, too tired to do much else.

"I apologize for returning so late. You must have been lonely," Arima concluded. Kaneki wasn't of course. He was rather grumpy though after Arima had rudely interrupted his nap.

He idly watched Arima as he bustled over him with baby wipes and baby powder. He felt like he was peering at the scene through a dream for how out of it he felt. His afternoon nap had lasted well into the evening and left him feeling spectacularly groggy. It was wonderful how little he cared now.

He hadn't even realized that he'd wet himself, until Arima had changed his diaper. Lethargically, he noted that he should be a little concerned about that. That he was accepting his role to such an extent. Losing further control over himself. Truly, reverting to an infant.

His sleepiness prevailed throughout the rest of the night with Arima. He'd accepted his bottle and the spoonfuls of mystery meat mush without his usual fuss. Even when Arima was bathing him, he found himself apathetic to what usually traumatized him. Instead of shaking in fear, he leaned against Arima and relaxed into the soft touches.

He knew he should be a little worried over his lack of reaction, but he just didn't have the energy to care. Fortunately, Arima was worried enough in his place. While he had at first been charmed by his son's sleepiness, he was growing increasingly alarmed that something was amiss.

Kaneki only whined when Arima gently jostled him from his light doze. The more Arima tried to wake him, the fussier he got until he was completely crying in misery. He couldn't understand why Arima wouldn't just let him go back to sleep. He was exhausted and irritated. But his tantrum was weak and it only worried Arima more.

Everything seemed so soft in his haze. The world was blurring out of focus and shrinking with each slow blink. Nothing could touch him. Nothing could reach him. Even the sharp worry in Arima's eyes couldn't cut through the fog that had befallen him.

Vaguely, he remembered his dream and the man he'd met among his father's books. He'd been so soft and beautiful. Sad, too, he remembered, when he talked about the flowers he loved withering away.

'It's just a flower,' he found himself thinking, 'They bloom and wither even if you don't pluck them, so don't be sad, Arima.'

'To be loved by you is worth it,' he tried to echo Arima's assurance from earlier. But he'd been without words for a while, so he only managed a nonsensical murmur before sleep took him again.

* * *

Anxious eyes raced through pages and pages of child care books, flitting to his son's prone form every few minutes. All the while, Haise slept, his expression serene though the hints of his earlier emotional outburst remained.

Every book and every website said the same thing: babies sleep a lot. He should have taken comfort in that reassurance, but it only frustrated him. His fatherly instincts were screaming at him that something was wrong with his child. And new as these instincts were, Arima was never the type to ignore his instincts. Mado had made sure to impart that lesson early.

He couldn't take him to a hospital as much as he longed to sprint him into the emergency room. They wouldn't understand and they couldn't help. But Haise needed a doctor. One that understood his unique biology.

Driven purely by desperation, he finally broke down and called the one man who could help.

Dr. Chigyou picked up on the fourth ring.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** And I think I'll leave it there for now~ Please forgive me for the bit of a cliff hanger, but I've actually had this written for a while and realized that if I didn't do it now, it would never be published. So is Kaneki/Haise really sick or is Arima just overreacting? Find out next time~

Once again, I apologize for the lateness and thank you for all the comments, faves, and follows! You are the best! I know it's been a while, so if you're still out there, please give me a hollar. Or if you're new too~

Anyways, I hope you all have a great day and find lots of great things to read!

~Dotti3


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